Star Wars_ Fate of the Jedi 05_ Allies - Christie Golden [110]
He was only vaguely comforted when he glanced over his shoulder and saw that Vestara, too, looked like she’d rather be anywhere else but here.
“Here we go,” Luke said quietly, and the strange fleet of Jedi, Sith, and a former roguish prospector-turned-gambler-turned-businessman moved forward into the gaping mouth of the Maw.
DAALA WATCHED, HER FACE IMMOBILE, AS THE GIRL WENT DOWN.
She had authorized the use of lethal force if necessary when she spoke with Belok Rhal and put him in complete charge of the mission. “Do whatever’s necessary, but I want those two Jedi.”
She’d been surprised at the deadline he’d issued. But when he blasted the child—
No. Kani Asari, as the holojournalist was animatedly telling her the name was, was not a child. She was an adult woman, if young, and a Jedi apprentice. She was not an innocent. And if her death—starkly brutal as it was—had the effect of paralyzing the Jedi and making them think twice about the situation, then perhaps young Kani Asari had actually saved lives with her sacrifice.
Still. When the holocam panned back and focused tightly in on the limp form, Daala reached for the control and changed the channel.
This new channel showed something just as disturbing—the herky-jerky chaos and cacophony of a riot. The world was a bright one, a desert planet with blue sky and brown sand. And blaster fire. Lots and lots of blaster fire. The cam panned crazily about as the journalist ran for safety. He was saying something in one of the few languages Daala did not understand, but as he moved the cam about she recognized the species of the fallen.
Hutts. Klatooinians. Niktos.
The hair on the back of her neck prickled. It couldn’t be. She clicked on the translator and suddenly Basic poured forth.
“… attack on the Fountain four standard hours ago. Utter, absolute madness, shouting and singing and spontaneous dancing paired with blaster fire and death. No Hutt is safe here, on this world where they once were unquestioned masters. I repeat, the Treaty of Vontor, which has stood for more than twenty-five millennia, has been declared null and void, and the celebrating is—”
She couldn’t believe it. She half-expected to see that Devaronian girl, Madhi Vaandt, reporting. This was her sort of environment, the end of the slavery she kept reporting on ad nauseum, and Daala bet she was kicking herself for missing it. Fortunately, Daala was spared that sight. She was relieved. Given her mood, she might have been tempted to hurl her cup of caf at the screen if Madhi’s perky face had filled it.
The Perre Needmo Hour had a loyal following, and the series of reports on slavery in various distant and sometimes uncomfortably not-so-distant locales was very popular. It had inspired several peaceful protests and a few violent ones on the worlds from which they were broadcast, as well as motivating local clusters of Tatooinians, Chevs and, probably, Klatooinians to form their own parades and protests here on Coruscant.
Her comm buzzed. She knew who it was without even having to click on it. “Yes, Dorvan, I saw it.”
“It doesn’t look very good, ma’am. Gunning down an unarmed young woman.”
“Jedi are never unarmed.”
“Well, that’s true, but—”
“I know what you meant. But at the same time, it demonstrates how serious the situation is. Kenth Hamner has been given every opportunity to turn over the Jedi. Now, he gets to see the consequences of his actions. I regret this very much, but I did give Belok Rhal carte blanche to proceed as he saw fit.”
“If there is another incident like this—”
“Wynn. They’re Jedi. They’re not stupid. Do you think, having seen this, that anyone would attempt that again?”
A pause. “No, ma’am.”
“This siege, ideally, will result in no further bloodshed, the surrender of the Jedi crazies to me, and hopefully the education and submission of the Jedi as a group.”
“I hope you’re right, ma’am. There’s something else I wanted